


God Damn Right You Should Be Scared of Me

by Heavydirtys0ul



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Septiplier - Fandom, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, M/M, Mark is his tutor, More characters might be added as the story progresses, Post-Apocalypse, Tackles some important subjects
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2018-07-15 02:25:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7202528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavydirtys0ul/pseuds/Heavydirtys0ul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>..."Who is in Control?"<br/>--<br/>“Firstly, you need to harness your fear, and become it, the one you fear is inside of you, and you have to use him,”</p><p>Jack looked up, with his eyes reflecting every bit of fear in the cerulean of his irises. There’s a whisper hanging heavy on his tongue, but he can’t bring himself to say what’s on his mind. “And you say I can get them back? I can save them?” He looks up at his tutor, whose crimson hair falls lightly against his forehead. </p><p>“First you must become Anti,”<br/>--<br/>Alternatively:<br/>Jack is struggling Warrior living in the Wastelands of New Earth. After a solar flare fried he surface of Earth, everyone is fighting to repair the damage. However, the authorities are trying to clear up the "Wasteland Dwellers," by taking them from their homes. When Jack's friends go missing, he is taken under the wing of a man that calls himself "Dark," A mysterious enigma who keeps his identity concealed.</p><p>To save his friends, he must learn to control the voice inside his head, and become one with his power. Otherwise his friends may never see the outside world again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

“Firstly, you need to harness your fear, and become it, the one you fear is inside of you, and you have to use him,”

Jack looked up, with his eyes reflecting every bit of fear in the cerulean of his irises. There’s a whisper hanging heavy on his tongue, but he can’t bring himself to say what’s on his mind. “And you say I can get them back? I can save them?” He looks up at his tutor, whose crimson hair falls lightly against his forehead.

“First you must become Anti,”

\--

This will be updated when I finish my exams! Possibly after I've finished my Phan and Septiplier oneshots but I got the idea from MCR's Na Na Na and Sing as well as the whole Antisepticeye/Darkiplier thing that is honestly eating me I love it so much. 


	2. Soldier Keep On Marching On.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Soldier keep on marching on,  
> head down til the work is done,  
> waiting on that morning sun,  
> soldier keep on marching on,"
> 
> Jack comes back from an early raid to find his friends are gone. He must try to navigate where they are being kept, without guidance he struggles.

 Jack tried not to think of the noise. The explosive darkness that echoed through his ears, the silence that purged this place, that noise; or the lack of, more precisely. The man of Irish decent knew more than anything that the sound of silence was not a good sound, he was used to the sound of his friends greeting him after a he went out to gather supplies, used to chatting and teasing and the sound of “Fuckin’ hell Jack,” As he misses another close call through his laughter. But no, it was dead silent. The door was missing off the little makeshift house that he shared with his closest friends- a lovely young couple called Dan and Phil, and his best friend Felix. As he stepped in, the floorboards creaked and echoed back the sound of silence. There was none of the two teasing each other, or the smell of his Swedish best friend attempting to cook before the food became inedible, which it often did in the wastelands.

He places the bag of loot on the table top, moving around to find the pan on the stove with nothing inside, as if it was being prepared for an early morning meal. Moving away from the stove, he climbs up the ladder to find the four mattresses empty, with Phil’s stuffed lion lying discarded, as if it had been dropped and forgotten. Fumbling, Jack moves under Dan’s mattress to find a necklace lying there. The lime haired man sighed and wiped his hands over his face with a deep sigh. He knew the British man never left anywhere without that necklace, of which inside was a crumpled picture of himself and Phil on a bad camera that they’d found and quickly ran out of ink. He never left for a raid without it, never left home without it permanently, not even to travel into the neighbouring towns. A chill ran up the Irishman’s spine, as the gravity of the situation sank in. If the brunet never left without the necklace, it means someone forced him to leave without it.

“Fuck,” the low curse escaped him, unable to help himself, stuffing the necklace into the inside pocket of his jacket, heading down the ladder to begin rummaging through the drawer. Inhaling was becoming a struggle, trying to ignore the wave of anxiety that was attempting to overcome him. Slamming open cupboards, he grabs food and drinks, shoving them into his bag and throwing it onto his bag. There was no way he could find them just by following their trail. The wasteland was mostly sand and junk; the tracks would be blown over by the morning. He looks towards the door, crouching by what he assumes are footprints, but they were thick and the substance wasn’t dirt, rather oil. Not many places had an access to enough oil that it would be left to carelessly be stepped in. Oil and gas and things as such were precious and rare.

He scraped his hand through his hair, the emerald strands falling in place in his eyes, causing him to flick it back. _‘What places have access to oil?’_ in his mind, he went over a mental map of the wastelands and the towns in and around it. He narrowed it down to three places that have healthy oil markets, two in the north-west and one in the south-east, all three with access to great amounts of fossil fuels due to the advanced machinery the head. It would explain how they managed to travel so far in and get the others, assuming this was some form of mission. ‘But why would they want wastelanders?” he sighs and begins to head out the back, hoping to find more clues. Thankfully, he was correct, the skid of tire tracks indicated that some form of specialised vehicle had come to get them, but not more than one, so the assumption was they had weapons that could easily get them out without using too many men.

Jack felt sick in his stomach, a bubbling anger started in his veins, which shoot a startling inky colour in response to his anger. “Don’t you fucking dare,” He muttered to himself “I don’t need you right now,” The oily colour to his veins subsided, but he could still feel the residual anger that was not quite his own in the backseat of his mind.

They all had their little quirks, wastelanders, little gifts that normal people who were born without the resistance to the radiation in the wasteland. That’s why they lived in towns, and lived normal lives. Dan was telekinetic, and he was fun to be around in a bad mood because random objects would just start flying as he raged at Phil eating all his breakfast. Phil was clairvoyant, and could see into and manipulate different timelines. Felix was their unofficial leader just simply because he had been the first here and the first to bring them in and look after them when they were fighting and struggling alone. He could reach into people’s minds, and see what they are thinking and talk to them, it was terrifying Jack that he couldn’t hear him right now, because no matter how far away he was, the Swedish man would always reach out and guide him. He’s never felt this alone before.

Jack however, did not have a gift; he had a curse, or rather a person, living in his head. Felix said he’d never seen a mutation cause another person to live inside you before, and he’d never seen or heard of anything like Jack before. The Irishman had rather bitterly said he wished he still didn’t, because his curse, his voice inside his head, was not pleasant at all. He was violent and thought with blood and bones rather than rationality. Within the first two days of meeting Dan and Phil, the voice had gone berserk and taken over Jack’s body, attempting murder until Felix had managed to knock him out as painlessly as possible. Phil gave him the name Anti, and they helped him work out strategies to keep his dark side silent.

Jack sighed, leaning against the wall to his-their-home, trying to calm his anger down before it let out something that can’t be controlled. As he squinted at the sand, he saw something glint amongst it, heading towards it, he found a small chain, like a dog tag, engraved in it was a small symbol: A thick line, with a smaller one next to it and three dots at the side. He ran a calloused thumb over the engraving, before switching it over. There was a name, ‘James Waite’ along with the name underneath that he assumed was a company name ‘Alive Industries’. He recognised neither, until he got to the last line, an address of sorts, an area code followed by ‘New Indianapolis,’ He knew that sector, mostly military based, and fit the sort of puzzle pieces he already had.

Breaking into there would be nearly impossible without certifying his death.

He cursed under his breath and headed back into his house, rummaging through the weapons they stored, taking the more powerful ones as well as more simplistic ones in case he came across other raiders, he wanted to save all his ammo the best he could. The young man threw his backpack into the front seat of his vehicle- a slightly run down and re-repaired truck that was battered beyond distinction but still worked even if it was scratched and battered by the wasteland. He went back into the house to retrieve the rest of his money and drinks, knowing the trip would be a long one and he’d need as many supplies as possible.

He couldn’t yet quite fathom why anyone wanted to kidnap his friends. Felix was powerful yes, but he’d lived alone until he’d brought in Jack and trained him in the ways of the wasteland, they only fought other raiders so they weren’t a threat to civilians. As far as the Irishman knew, the elder man was of no threat and never had been, he was simply living alone and doing the best he could with what he had. Then he’d taken in Jack and later Dan and Phil, who had grown up in the cities, only to be thrust out by the government once they learnt of what they were. Wastelanders or mutants, were people with genetically modified genes, which gave them each particular gifts, as well as heightened emotions and senses. Some governments allow mutants to live in their civilisations providing they’re on good behaviour, some reject them or use them for slave labour.

Felix was a potential threat, because his power involved brain manipulation. But Dan and Phil? Phil talked to the flowers in the morning because he knew they would be dead in the afternoon, and was worried they’d die lonely, he was out of touch with the real world and sweet and sensitive. He was the eldest, but spent so often phasing in and out of timelines in his head that time seemed like it was all occurring at once in his head. Most of the time he acted like a child, and was scared when he was without Dan because there was no one to ground him. Of course he trusted Jack and Felix all the came, but there was a bond between the two of them that was unlike anything. The only thing that can bring the ebony haired man from a vision is the sound of Dan’s voice or the touch of his hand. It was beautiful, but confusing all the same.

Dan was the youngest of them all. There was a year between himself and Dan, a handful of months between himself and Felix and a few years between himself and Phil. Phil was 29, he and Felix were 26 and Dan was 25. He was often described as the baby of the group, but provided them all with the most well fleshed out and in depth responses to questions. The other British born boy  (They could all distinguish heritage due to accents, though the sectors they originated from they imagined were bigger when the idea of Britain, and Ireland and Sweden came about, before a solar flare friend the Earth a generation ago) saw patterns and thought in logic. He worked things out by looking at what he could see and identifying why they might exist, what caused them to exist. He stole books from the libraries of sectors when they visited, and bought them whenever he could find the rare chance. He taught himself to read because not many people could, whereas Jack had been lucky enough to have parents that could read; Dan taught Phil and Felix to read.

He was no closer to understanding why they would take Dan and Phil as he closed up the house and jumped into his vehicle, starting up the engine. All he knew at this point was that he had to help them. He took one last look at the dog tag in his hand before shoving it in his pocket. “I’ll figure out who took you guys,” Jack muttered, before pressing down on the pedal, leaving a trail of sand to kick up in his wake.


	3. Can You Hear The Silence?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Can you hear the silence?  
> Can you see the dark?  
> Can you fix the broken?  
> Can you feel my heart?"
> 
> Jack continues his travels, and comes across a strange hitchhiker, who insists he can help.

The wasteland was never ending, and it's contents were always a surprise. One could not predict what you would find in this barren stretch of land, only recognize that getting lost here was a death sentence. Luckily it was Jack's home and he knew every nook and cranny by memory. There's no surprise on his expression when he drives past dead bodies, but every time his heart sinks into his stomach a little, making a twisting sensation in his gut; people were dying left right and center, in a world where humanity was dying out they all still took to killing each other. Not that he had room to really talk as he'd killed before and so had Dan. Phil had point blank refused to ever take part in a raid, and would probably rather die than hurt another Human, even just out of self defense. Felix had once been a raider, not like them, but a vicious sort that attacks travelers and murders them for their gold and stock. As a whole, the four (or three) of them had never taken all of anyone's things, despite it being incredibly hard to come across anything in the wasteland, and the only death had resulted in such because things had taken a turn south. 

But Jack accepted he was murderer a long time ago, it wouldn't matter anyway, it's what the outside world assumed. 

A sigh trails thinly from his chapped lips, his soft blue eyes taking in the scorching heat and the blurred vision of the outside world through the heatwaves. His hand encloses quickly around a bottle of water and cautiously swallows don two mouthfuls of the beverage, gauging how much he is drinking up and how much he'll need before his next pit stop. As far as he can determine, the next station where he can gather fuel, drink and food, is approximately 13 hours away. Which, in the terms of the wasteland, is not all that far. Once he traveled an entire week to get to a nearby town, he'd traveled with Dan and the entire time all he'd done is worry and complain about Phil not being with him.  It was a genuine concern, because Phil wasn't completely self aware, but Felix had looked after him as he'd been made to promise well over 50 times. _Fuck_ , he misses his friends.

He watches the barren landscape drive past him, the tires kicking up the sand behind him as he drives forward with a determination that he'd never quite experienced until now, watching the world continue was a strange sensation because he felt like it should stop. It should stop and listen too him, take notes of those who are in pain, take note of what he's lost-losing. But instead the young man grits his teeth and puts up with this sensation, he's a wastelander, he's used to being ignored, it's in his blood. The sand is deep as the tires drag through it, he doesn't doubt there are pieces of rock and people ground fine within it's mixture. He bets if he digs deep enough, he'll find a whole skeleton under the layers. Maybe several. The wind blows the sand over night, what was there in the evening will be gone by the morning. Almost like life, things just get buried after a while, some things are easier to forget than ever bring up again.

Switching on the radio, he listens to a small crackle before an animated voice begins talking through the speaker, it's the only radio station that you could reach from any point, and for the sake of consistency, he doesn't like to switch from this one. The radio host always spoke quickly, with a laugh too his voice, and played far too much Pop music for his taste, but it filled the silence and his loneliness enough. Music and books and other things similar had been stored in bulk underground with the humans when the solar flare was approaching. However only the rich or very clever were able to afford to go underground, and the poor, as always historically, were left to suffer. A lot of land was completely destroyed, some land became infertile like his homeland of Ireland, his family traveled to America, who were rebuilding quickly, some land infertile and some easy to build on. He didn't detest it here, it was where he was born and where he'd grown up, but sometimes he wished he'd got to see his homeland before it was destroyed. 

Jack's about four hours into his drive, exhaustion is programming most of his movements and he's running on autopilot and out of water. The sun has just reached it's highest point in the sky, and the open exposure to his skin burns even for his strength against it. He pulls his sleeves down over his exposed arms to stop them from burning, and is immediately overwhelmed by the heat. "Fuckin' sun," He growls out in a thick, annoyed Irish accent, cerulean eyes narrowed to focus on the distance. "Fuck this shit," He growled softly. He rubs his eyes and tightens his grip on the steering wheel, trying to keep his eyes on the sand in front of him, when he notices a figure in the distance. See the wasteland was known for it's unfriendly inhabitants, and his hand immediately goes to the pistol holstered against his thigh. If this wasn't a raider though, he wouldn't last until sunset alone in the wasteland. 

He pulls up very slowly, taking in the man who is stood there with his arm out.

His skin is dark in comparison to the milky tint of his own skin; this man was a light bronze copper, with a shine to his face that showed he'd been travelling all day. His hair wild and pushed out of his face with the tips dyed a soft crimson that faded into the onyx of his natural hair, that reminded Jack of his own hair, vibrant green and dyed every time he went into the city. If this guy was a wastelander he must have had a similar idea; city folk loved their vibrant colors and excessive makeup, so it'd make it easier to blend in with the crowd. His eyes curve slightly, showing some Asian heritage along the lines, with the color of warm chocolate for his irises. He's big, not as in fat, but muscled, the tone of his arms is very visible in the vest that's hanging off his shoulders; dressing like that was going to give him radiation poisoning or sunburn, Jack immediately fretted, unable to help himself. 

"Where you heading?" He finally asks, once he's finished studying the man, who's looking up at him now with expectancy on his face, his dark eyes lighting up under the sun's harsh gaze. "You're gonna get yourself killed if you walk around dressed so openly, the sun'll rip your skin apart," He can tell his accent takes the other slightly off guard by the way his eyes widen slightly and his eyebrows raise. 

"I'm just heading anywhere but here," The guy shrugged "I'm not particularly picky," Jack tilts his head in a gesture for him to get in the other side. "And I'm fine, I have a very high tolerance for radiation," He watches him sidle in "Forgive me, if I don't give you my real name, the world's a dangerous place for people like me, but you can call me Dark," The Irishman tries not to be affronted, because the point he makes is very valid, even something as simple as a name could end you in very deep trouble around some people, they'd sell you out for next to nothing. So Jack simply nods in response to the information, no longer sure what to say; he felt he shouldn't give out his real name, or the name that he goes by, but he has no other name. 

"I'm just Jack," He says meekly after a long pause "There's water in the back if you need some just please don't drink too much, the next gas stop is hours away," He tightens his grip on the steering wheel, fidgeting slightly, as his eyes train on the road. "And if people like 'you' you mean wastelanders, then I'm also one too," His azure eyes remain fixated on the road, his head hurts and his tired eyes want to close, but he presses on nonetheless, it's too far away and you can't just take a nap in the wasteland, you might never wake up. Dark appears to nod in reply, confirming his suspicions from earlier. "So what can you do?" He asks, looking over at the taller man with an eyebrow raised, either way he'd be jealous of the talent. 

"Nothing really," Comes the sullen reply and the driver takes it in his stride to simply keep his mouth shut. His 'gift' was also completely useless and is in fact, mostly a burden, so he can understand having a sore spot for conversations as such, so he simply avoids continuing down that path. "So why are you travelling so far with what looks like your entire homes contents?" Jack bites down on his lip, unsure if he should be trusting this stranger with any information other than how the weather is today as he takes a deep breath. He decides that if he, too, is a mutant, then he deserves to know because he and his friends could be in danger. 

"My friends were taken, and I need to find them, I know they were taken by soldiers from New Indianapolis, and that they are somehow keeping their powers contained," Or at least Felix's, otherwise he would have heard him by now. His heart clenched, the Swedish man had always been the rock of the group, the idea of anyone keeping him down, of overpowering him, made Jack feel helpless, a spike of emotion ran through him and his jaw clenched on reflex. The idea of anyone hurting his friends made pure rage rise in his veins, a feeling of uncontrollable anger rising and falling. "I need to find them," Dan must be scared too, he's strong, but he always has to be strong enough for two people, and refused to ever let anyone past his stoic outside, no one but Phil at least. Not even Jack had ever seen Dan cry, he's never seen him remotely fazed by anything, not even when another man's blood was dripping off his fingertips. And Phil, Phil must be terrified right now. It doesn't take much to startle Phil, little things make him jump and he's so full of empathy that he gets upset when the flowers die in the afternoon. Every day he sees horrible things behind his eyelids. 

"I think we may be in a similar situation," The deep voice pulls him from his thoughts of his friends, so he turns to meet the dark eyes of the other man. "And I do believe that I can help you,"

 


	4. Avalanche

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Cut me open, and tell me what's inside,   
> diagnose me cause I can't keep wondering why,  
> I know it's not a phase because it happens all the time,  
> start over, check again, now tell me what you find,"  
> -Avalanche, Bring Me The Horizon
> 
> They make it to the first city to fill up on petrol, when Anti attempts to break out.

The truck almost coughs pathetically as they pull up outside the gates to a nearby city; it's as if the beaten down vehicle could be physically worn down by the heat and devastation the same way they could. Dark, who was making a point to remain quiet it seemed, studied the map in his lap clearly "So do you know where they are?" He finally speaks, his low baritone voice rumbling through the small truck. Jack rummaged around his pockets,before throwing the tag he had retrieved before down onto the other man's lap, focusing as they drove through the arch and into the city. "That was left behind at our home," He said softly, swerving the truck into a gas station. Turning it off, he leans back in his seat momentarily and regards the other man with reservation; there's so much he wants to say, so much he wants to ask, but they are strangers and this is not the sort of world where you share secrets. 

Instead he clambers out of the truck and moves around to the pumps, unscrewing the cap and pushing the tube into the gap that was no revealed. He stands still, watching the tank fill up on the meter, and thinking absently about his situation. He felt scared, for the first time in so many years he felt honestly terrified and so, so lonely; he had absolutely no idea if his friends are even still alive, he could be risking his life for no particular reason. His chest felt tight, and his hands clenched around the pump, yanking it out and slamming it back where it belonged; his head ached and his mouth felt very dry, tasting of sulfur, and metallic like blood. _Not now, not here_. He heads inside to pay, but his hands shake as he does, slamming the correct amount of money on the counter. "S-sorry, my head is k-killing me," He explains to the store clerk who is staring at him intensely. The money is taken and he is handed a piece of paper saying he paid before he stumbles towards the truck. 

 _'Fuck, not now, get out of my God damn head,'_ He thinks, moving to grip at his hair, he stumbles into the truck and rests his head against the steering wheel, his entire body trembling. Dark studied him, his eyes watching the scene unfolding in front of him, wordlessly, he grabs a bottle of water and forces Jack to sit back, thrusting the water into his grip. "Drink," When Jack makes no move to do so, he repeats in a sterner voice "Drink," The other brings the bottle to his lips and drinks weakly, sipping the water down his rough, scratchy throat. He lets out a small cry of pain, as if his DNA was rewriting itself on the spot, leaning back against the seat and squirming. "Get in the passenger seat," The elder growled, moving out of the van and around to the driver's seat, before helping the smaller man into the passenger seat. "You clearly can't drive like this," He says in response to Jack's weak protests. "I'll get us to a resting spot,"

Dark drives significantly rougher than Jack, causing the smaller man to feel rather sick within the confinements of this tin can with wheels. His stomach lurches, whilst he feels him poking at his mind, trying to break the mental wall that had been put up to confine him. "Fuck off, get out," He whimpers, blinded by agony, squirming violently as he attempted to push down the screaming voice in his head. The bastard had fed him fear knowing it would weaken him, and now the monster was trying to get through. But he couldn't have Anti out there in the world; he was viscous, terrifying. The truck screeched to a stop outside a motel of some kind, his head aching as he leaned against Dark for support, the much more adapted and street-wise man sighed as he wrapped an arm around the weakening body of the Irishman's. At this current moment, the younger was phasing between minds, words spilling out his mouth from the two different personalities. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was happening, it took Dark though. 

"Holy shit, is he ok?" A young man stumbles forward, his soft eyes wide as he scrambles towards the two. "Do you need help? First aid?" He rushes from behind the counter to look at the green haired man, who had turned a deathly shade of porcelain. "Here, I'll take you to a room," The smaller man wraps an arm around Jack's waist to help support the other side, a string of thank you's left Dark's lips, happy to have some assistance with the wildly squirming man in his arms. Inside a room, the young man helps lay the other down. "He's running a fever but he's deathly pale," He studies Jack for a moment "Perhaps he's having hallucinations because of his fever?" But the eldest man was paying little attention, instead studying what was unfolding. 

"It's ok, I'll make sure he's fine, thank you for your assistance," He scrambles through his pockets, pressing a few bills into his hand, "I'll let you know how he is in the morning," The dark eyed man sat down on the bed, bringing his hand to press against the other's pulse, as the door clicks behind the motel owner, he studies the raised heart rate of his companion, he recognized all these signs, he knew them by heart. He'd seen it all once before, and never thought he would see it again in another person; "You're a switcher," He whispered softly "Two minds, one body," A grin spread across his face, "Come on then, I've spoke to Jack, now...let me talk to you," He presses his hand against the other mans chest, closes his eyes as he focuses on his job, his essence twitches and splutters inside of him, causes a visible, outward flinch. 

And when Jack's eyes open, they're not the shimmering blue that glisten happily and reflect all the emotions he is feeling like a mirror. Dark would jump back if he wasn't already familiar with it; not these eyes, but the change. "Aren't you pretty?" He muttered. The eyes meeting his own were a sickly pale green where the whites should be, the iris pitch black, like darkness had been poured into them purposefully, and the pupil the dead shade of off white. They looked dead, blank, blinking slowly as if assessing what had just occurred. "What's your name?" 

"Anti," his voice is Jack's, but deeper, rougher, slower, the accent was thicker and sounded somewhat bloodthirsty, not at all what he was used too at all. No surprise showed on his face as he studied the creature with fascination. "My name is Anti," His lips curl around the words as if he's never spoke them in his life, before a grin that was downright insane spread across his face; it was a face that the other somewhat liked, despite the twitch of uncertainty that sparked inside the pit of emotions he owned. "Really, I have to thank you for bringing me out, but it wasn't the smartest of moves, I mean there was a reason Jack was keeping me buried after all," Bloodthirsty was definitely the right word choice, everything about his demeanor screamed that he wasn't at all sane, but it was something Dark could use to his advantage, he could train him the same way he trained the last one. 

"No good suppressing you, no not at all," he bit his lip, studying the maniacal look that seemed to be the only emotion this half was capable of expressing. Jack was soft, rational, even in saving his friends he was upset but not furious, he drove himself via rationality and patience. It made sense he feared Anti, who was irrational and threatening, he'd barely done anything at all but the half-Asian could very distinctly see such a driving force of madness inside his eyes, this was not a man you would take for dinner without a little blood being spilled. "Ok, well that's enough of you," He pressed a hand to Anti's chest, hearing the words of confusion and anger spat out at him. "I just wanted to get a feel of you, sorry, Jack's right, you are definitely not someone we need out in the open right now," He presses down firmly, pinning the smaller man's body down, watching without flinching as he thrashed beneath him, before the dark eyes were replaced with soft, scared ones. 

"What the fuck did you just do?"

\--

"So let me get this straight, people like you were created for the specific purpose of controlling people like me?" The Irishman raked a hand through his hair, pacing rapidly, whereas Dark sat on the bed, watching him with an amused expression painted on his face. "But what are the chances of us ever meeting? Are there more of people like me out there? I'm not alone?" The younger approached the bed, and even now there was no wildness to his eyes, he remained calm, composed, awaiting a patient response. He was studying him, almost profiling him; the difference between Jack and Anti was so abstract that it was hard to picture that face wearing such different expressions. 

"There are always complications, but people with matching genetics tend to drift towards each other, people with powers of the mind tend to drift to people with powers of the body, for example, your power is in your mind, but mine is physical as mine is to stop you, some people have multiple powers, they're often referred to as 'New Gods' and choose to remain away from civilization," Dark watches as his companion sits at the edge of the bed, listening attentively, "But I've only ever seen someone who is a Switcher once before, sometimes they're viewed as myths, because it's hard to believe a mutation would cause an entire person to live in the backseat of your mind," He doesn't want to give him all the information, he's worried it will scare off the younger man, so he bites his lip on a few of the pieces of information. "The myth is that what causes a Switcher, is that in the womb there was supposed to be two babies, but one of their body failed, so their soul lived inside the other body," He shrugs "The mutation could have acted like a magnet, after all there's so much the world doesn't know about Wastelanders," 

Jack sighs and runs a hand through his hair, lying down, staring up at the ceiling as he attempts to take in everything that he's just learnt. His head aches in a new way and his tired body is now begging him to take a break. "I'm going to have a shower and get changed," he muttered, standing up and heading into the bathroom. Dark watches him, almost sympathetic; this wasn't a nice thing to endure, and he's surprised the other isn't angry for bringing Anti out of him, but no, he's just quiet, studious. If he didn't know better, he'd say that Jack was more curious about his powers than angry that he'd been so very close to releasing a murderous, bloodthirsty soul into the world. He hears the click of water and starts to strip down to his underwear, climbing into the bed and curling up. This Jack was somewhat strange, he had a personality that he'd never seen before in a mutant, he was too...accepting, too docile, his anger died down far too quickly. He was not a fighter, and although his dedication was there, there was no way he could fight an empire. 

Jack climbs in beside the other, hair still wet and not a complaint on his lips about sharing a bed with a stranger. His bare back brushed against the heavily defined, muscled one of Dark's, eliciting a shiver but not much else. Drained, emotionally and physically, he quickly falls asleep. 


	5. The Devil Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I will keep quiet,   
> you won't even know I'm here,  
> you won't suspect a thing,   
> you won't see me in the mirror,  
> I've crept inside your heart,   
> you won't make me disappear,"

Thomas leaned against the counter, humming to himself as he flicked through the pile of magazines lay out before him. His nimble fingers lightly picked at each worn out page, biting down on his lip as he focused on more headlines. More news. More destruction. A hollow sigh lingered on his lips as he push the paper out of his way and rested his head in his hands, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He hoped the two that had joined the room last night were OK now, seeing the state they were in yesterday had been somewhat distressing. The brunet continued to hum to himself as he neatened the stack of papers before pulling up a new registration sheet, moving over to switch the closed sign over to open. As he opened the blinds and the curtains, his humming became whispered singing, a hopeful song that spoke of brighter days and that this one might be the start of it. It was all false hope, but it was better than no hope at all.

The sound of footsteps interrupt his joyful tune, as he turns on his heel, eyebrows raised; the chord in his hand slips through his fingers and taps against the newly opened blinds. Coming down the stairs, looking somewhat weary and startled, was one of the young men from the night before- his shock of emerald hair mussed with his bright eyes drawn and tired. A mighty amount of pity rose within the young hotel owner as he waved over with a smile. "Are you feeling any better?" He asked, eyes full of wondrous kindness and innocence. "Breakfast is in half an hour, hopefully it'll help you feel a little better," The elder squeezes the smaller's mans shoulder for comfort. "Where's your partner at?"

"I'm feeling a little better, yes," Jack chuckles once he gets a word in edgeways after the slightly more energetic man had finished asking questions "Something made me quite ill last night it appears," He digs his hands into his pockets and studies the other. "Breakfast sounds great thanks, I'll just go get-" He turns to head towards the stairs and retrieve his friend from where he had been slumbering, only to find Dark trailing down after him. He too looked as if he hard just awoken, red hair messy atop his head as if he'd been tossing and turning all night. "There he is," The moment he laid eyes on his companion, his shoulders seem to relax and his body untangle from it's frustration and fear. He finally had someone who can help him tame the beast inside. He wasn't so alone and the thought filled him with hope. 

"Morning," The deep baritone rumble was laced with sleep, making it sound heavy and exhausted. Dark offers a tired smile too their host "So you run this place alone?" He asks as the three of them walk towards the entrance to the dining hall, looking forward to some food in their stomach. Thomas nods in reply, flicking through his notebook slowly before looking up at the two of them, eyebrows raised as if he hadn't been listening at all. Unable to help himself, Jack snorts and looks down at his feet, a grin on his lips; the elder continues to stare like asking for a repeat of the question. "I asked if you run this place alone,"

"Uh huh, I do, it's mostly for travelers and traders of the neighboring cities," He digs his hands in his pockets, finding a pen before leading them to a table by the window. The morning was bright, the suns rays filtering through the windows and reflecting off crimson curtains. Everything in the dining room followed a color scheme of fire- orange and yellow and red, all building up on each other. All demanding attention. One look at Dark and his vermilion hair made him look as though he was right at home in this room, but also something else. Fire was sinister, it was bright and dangerous, just like the man who sat before him. No matter what his name predicted, Dark was a bright man, and he could control Anti. That made him a threat and an asset. "So what would you like to eat?" Jack is pulled from his trance, looking up with his eyebrows raised.  

"Toast, butter and...sausages please?" He set aside the menu, having picked things at random. Meat was rare in his lifestyle, so  this was perhaps a luxury to indulge in. He watches Thomas take down his order and Dark's, before scurrying off into the kitchen. He notices that his new friend's eyes are trained on him, calculating him and immediately stiffens, meeting the gaze with two cold blue eyes. "It's rude to stare," His words are layered with far more venom than he intends but if there's one sure way to make him feel self-conscious and angry, it was to stare at him. 

"Sorry," He looked away, but there no apology in his voice, in fact there was something akin to mirth behind his tone, one in which Jack most certainly did not appreciate. Suppressing an argument, he plays about with the napkin lay about on the table. "So about your power," the younger looks up again, startled by the sudden conversation topic. "I can teach you how to control Anti, but you must become aware of your persons as one self not two, albeit you are two separate entities, this body is shared and you both have assets that can be used when facing what we will," There's a long pause as he talks again "We must find other mutants, and all of us could fight against the government who want us put down like dogs, before more of us get hurt,"

"Urm..." The two look up to face Thomas, who is holding their food. "I think I can help with that," he says softly, cheeks reddened and eyes wide at being caught on listening into something that he most certainly shouldn't be. 

\--

Jack had never seen something like this before. The dry patches of lands were crawling with flowers and plants, ones that moved of their own volition- or of Thomas' anyway. So many different types of nature rose and fell. "You can control the plants," He whispered in awe, looking back at the brown eyed man in wonder, of whom was blushing intensely at this point. "That's so awesome, the strength and adaptations of some plants make it both an attack and defense strategy," He leans down to observe a small Venus flytrap, fascinated. If Thomas could control the size of these... He looks up and grins. "Are you willing to help? It's risking a lot," Jack has sincerity written through his eyes, before reaching out to rest a hand on his arm. "If we get caught," He doesn't finish because the implications are clear enough. 

"No, yeah, I can do this, I can help,"

\--

The two head out on the road not long after, with the other's contacts stored in Dark's battered old cellphone, the two of them filled with slight insecurity but mostly pride at what they were about to undergo. "There is someone I think we can go to," The elder voices after a few moments of silence, his dark eyes resting on the road ahead, "He lives in the neighboring town over, but it will take at least two days to drive there," Jack nods slowly, looking over at his friend as he continues to drive, hand fastened on the steering wheel. "Are you sure you're ready for this, this is dangerous what we're going to do, our kind are being slaughtered as it is..."

"Exactly," The Irishman interrupts curtly "I will kill every single one of those bastards if they've so much as put a bruise on my friend's arms," For a second, Dark almost thinks Anti is the one speaking, but no that voice is all Jack. For the first time, he thinks his job might not be so hard after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm off to Budapest now so no updates for a while! I hope you enjoyed this update, try and guess who the friend is. Clue: Think who Pewds and Marzia have collabed with lately :)


	6. Ode To Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'll stay awake,  
> 'Cause the dark's not taking prisoners tonight,"
> 
> Dark directs them to a neighboring town, not wanting to be trapped in the wasteland overnight they make sure they've scheduled enough time to reach his friend.

The sun was bright. Not the sort of bright that settled lowly against your irises, or the sort of bright that you acknowledge in the daytime; no it was the sort of bright that makes you whine in the morning and hide your face, the sort of bright that made you hate it's existence. It was just too bright and Jack couldn't stop squirming. The wasteland is all he'd seen on repeat for hours, his hands were tight and clammy, aching against the hard steering wheel, and his head felt heavy from the heat. Dark seems to take note of his clear discomfort, but says nothing for a while, not wanting to disturb the other too greatly in case it broke whatever concentration he currently had. This, however, faded when he saw the other's eyes physically slide shut and decided enough was enough. "I'm driving," He declares openly, no room for an argument in his voice as his stern dark eyes met Jack's own bright ones. Rather weakly, the younger makes to protest, only to find his frail and exhausted body hauled out of the driving seat and into the backseat as if he weighed nothing. The feeling makes his stomach twist with a feeling he's never experienced before and in seconds he's out like a light. 

Dark doesn't mind being left with his own thoughts as he kicks the truck into gear, sighing at the pained noises it seemed to make. "Peej will fix you up no problem," He muttered, running his hand along the rusty frame. He leans his arm against the rolled down window, allowing the breeze created by drag to cool him down in the scorching heat. He looks over his shoulder into the back, where the younger was curled up against himself. The man of Asian descent cannot help but think he looks so young like this, with his soft emerald hair falling over his closed eyes, face relaxed and at ease. The tight lines of fear and anger were not drawn firm into his face, and instead he looked simply content to be existing. It sent a calming wave over Dark to see his companion in such a state, as if his worry had been infectious in the first place; after all they were both about to embark on a great journey, one that would not be easy to regain those they had believed to have lost. That they could lose. 

The elder man takes into consideration that Jack has no idea what he is capable of, the power that he holds inside him was not one that he was yet ready to know; but it's quite possible that Anti does know and that somehow initiates a spark of fear inside of Dark. He's not afraid of either of them, and when Jack can control both sides of himself it's not something that will even be a problem, it's the thought that Anti could be keeping secrets from the mind that he shares, and therefore there are things about the man that even he himself doesn't know. That's not a man that could be trusted, and yet he does. 

Controlling Anti may not be the biggest challenge Jack has to face. 

\--

When Jack comes too, there is roughly half an hour left of their travel. His eyes open slowly and blearily, the bright cerulean sparkling under the burning sun as he blinks his way into consciousness. Immediately he coughs, tongue darting out to dampen his dry lips before he sits up slowly, rummaging through the bag for water, which he greedily throws down his throat. Coughing and spluttering, he climbs into the passenger seat and leans his arm against the rolled down window frame, his head resting tiredly on the crook of his elbow. "Anti keeps trying to get out," He admits, "'s why I'm so tired, it's exhausting me to keep him down," Dark can in some case sympathize as he looks over at his travelling acquaintance with something akin to empathy in his dark eyes. 

"Perhaps you don't need to fight him," He says softly, his eyes focused dead ahead, but even he catches the look of ridicule in the other man's eyes from the corner of his own. "He has some powerful assets," The elder man attests, shifting a little in his seat "Look we'll talk later once we have space to train you, for now we need to focus on getting to PJ, fixing up this rusty pile of junk and getting some weapons and allies sorted, which we can do here," The desert land was starting to look more fixed, paved, like an actual road, symbolizing the fact they were approaching civilization. "Where we're going is a town that accepts mutants like us, and they all live together, however it's a small place, and the mutants are what are keeping it running really," 

The city landscape comes into view, as predicted it isn't vast or impressive, but the small buildings can be seen against the sunlight, sectioned off by a tall wall. The gates are tall, made from twisted iron and look handmade, but not by the fact they were shaky but by the fact that they were embellished in a way that showed excellent craftsmanship. "So...this PJ, what does he do?" He's obviously asking what his gift is, as he takes a moment to assess the dusty town, that looked more like a village. It was obviously the sort of community that functioned best together, where everyone had a job. It's quint size would suggest so at least. 

"He's a Technopath," Comes the mumbled response as he drives down the road, smoothly turning down the street. This place looked to be made by a series of streets that didn't extend too far, the tall wall keeping it protected, with flowers climbing up the walls. ' _Thomas would have a field day here_ ,' Jack absently thinks as he stops studying the walls and instead focuses on where they are going. "He can control machines with his mind, also given the technology he could build literally anything, he made this cellphone for me, free of charge too," He looks back over Jack, whose eyebrows are drawn tightly, as if he is studying something or thinking far too hard. Dark goes to ask what is on his mind, but the expression changes into something more relaxed and so he doesn't press the issue. "Hopefully he'll patch up this truck before it breaks down in the middle of the Wasteland," The tires screech to a stop as they pull in at the side of a house. It's the same size as all the houses here, with two floors and three windows at the front, the door painted black. 

The elder man clambers out first, locking up the truck and tossing the keys back to a tired looking Jack, falling into step with each other as they approached the house. Reaching up, the taller curled his fingers around the brass doorknob which looked rather haphazardly screwed to the wooden planks. There's a pause before the hollow sound fo metal hitting wood echoes throughout the house, once and then twice. Dark steps away from the door and simply waits, he can hear movement inside, but isn't surprised by the amount of time it takes the genius to come to the door. 

And PJ was nothing short of such. The man that opened the door had soft brown curls, tamed underneath a pair of circular goggles that were a cross between scientist goggles and a fashion statement. His skin was tan, and for a man who didn't appear to be keen on stepping outside, logic dictated that it was simply his natural skin tone; coupled with high cheekbones and structured jawline led Jack to think (much against his will) that this stranger was very much attractive. It wasn't something he thought of often, and it certainly wasn't a big deal, but relationships were certainly not something he would invest in, The mans eyes were a mysterious cocktail of multiple colors, and were to some extent rather enchanting, but seemed older than the rest of his youthful self. Catching himself staring, he looks down at his feet, which causes his travelling companion to look over at him curiously. "Dark, come on in my friend, who have you brought with you?" 

Inside the house is like stepping through a wormhole, like Alice stepping through the looking glass into a strange world where the trees were made of wires and the flowers were made of computer screens. The whole place was filled with technology, boxes of it, some scrap, some mid build and some fixed and ready. This entire place could have been an army base. "Careful not to step on anything," PJ gestured around. "If I'd have known I would be having visitors I would have shuffled some stuff around, it's almost like I didn't give you a phone for this specific purpose," He raises a bemused eyebrow at Dark, whose grin must be the first genuine smile that Jack has seen from him yet. Or at least, one so wide. "So what do you need? I assume this isn't a social call, especially with that scrap heap you brought with you," Dark's face turns a little bit more serious and soft sigh escapes him, as if he forgot he was here on business. "I guess I'll put the kettle on,"

\--

PJ was extremely calm about the situation, his back straight and eyes downcast as he absorbed the information, biting his lip occasionally. He didn't outwardly express emotion, sitting very still until the two had explained what they were trying to do. When they were finished he simply nodded and stood up, grabbing a crate of things and slamming it down on the table, followed by a handheld device with a keyboard, that jack had never seen in his life and only made him furrow his eyebrows in confusion. "Through this I can access a network of people who can help you, Technopaths such as myself, we're better off behind the scenes as you can tell hand to hand combat isn't really our thing," He taps away at the keyboard before moving over to the crate, pulling out things "And you will need a cellphone," He hums, he lays out an arrangement of seemingly random parts, biting his lip. "Will you be needing Chris?" 

His tone seemed to soften, the first ounce of real emotion Jack had seen expressed from this man. The name he spoke sounded so pained when it came from his lips, and yet there was a certain twang to it. He heard it whenever Dan spoke of Phil, and it was enough for the other to know that this Chris must be his partner. "I suppose his gift could come in handy, but you'll have to contact him yourself," a sigh follows as he begins putting things together, as easy as if they were toy pieces. "He never answers my calls anymore, for all I know he's dead in a ditch somewhere," He catches the downcast look on Dark's face, as he gazes at the table. 

"I'll call him," The elder reassures the genius as he turns back to the laptop. "You focus on what you have to do, that's all, and thank you, I know this is a great risk for you to take for us, and we're very grateful,"

"It's not a problem, you've helped me out many times my friend, and the bastards keep killing Wastelanders off like they aren't even people," He hands over the newly made cellphone to Jack, who looks like he can barely process all that is happening at once. "Look after that dude, spare parts are hard to come by and you're lucky that you have me as an ally," He turns to the device once more "Now listen, we can build weaponry, communication systems and have skills in hacking, but each one of us are specified in one thing or another, some in hacking, others in technology manipulation, others in building, I'll let you know whose on board as soon as I can," He picks up the crate of parts and places it where it came from. "I'll fix up the junkyard pile you brought with you as best I can and you're welcome here for the night, Also i didn't catch your name?"

There's a long pause and Jack looks up, panic settles in his bones as he realizes the gravity of this situation. This man was trusting him and Dark, as Thomas had and as more will do. He fidgets slowly, suddenly saying the name 'Jack' feels like a chore. He's not really Jack, he's a leader of the new embers that will soon spark into a flame. He's about to start a revolution. "I'm...Anti,"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to have PJ and Chris. Pretty much all the youtubers will be in this ngl. ALL OF THEM. 
> 
> And yeah. Anti. It's not Anti he just can't keep handing out his real name in case the government try to track him down.


	7. Guns For Hands

 

> "You all have guns,
> 
> and you never put the safety on,
> 
> and you all have plans,
> 
> to take it, don't take it,"

* * *

 

In the middle of the night, Jack feels like he's being eaten alive, his skin crawls, making him want to rip off every layer bit by bit to get to the infestation inside of him. The mind he shares is a mind that locks out secrets from him, that hides things from him; it's not a mind anyone can trust, he is not someone anyone can trust. He's a monster. The Irishman chokes on the air as he sits up, fully clothed, from the stockpile of blankets that are suffocating him and tries not to think of the demon behind his eyes, that is trying ever so hard to take control of a vessel that was never his. This wasn't a gift, or talent, he was everything humans feared, the sort of monster that they thought all mutants were. And he was giving into that bloodlust with Dark, he knew he would hurt them, he knows he might kill some of them, most of all he knew that Anti was getting stronger and what he wanted was destruction. But he didn't divulge this information to the two men risking their lives to help him next door. 

Deciding that what he mostly needed was to stretch his legs, he slides out of bed and walks along the cold hardwood flooring towards the door. It creaks as it opens and bangs slightly against the wall, such a quiet noise sounds loud in the silence so he winces, even the sound of his breathing sounds like a hurricane in the empty hallway. He pads down the stairs, each one creaking loudly and causing him to visibly cringe, until the soles of his feet were met with the carpeted flooring of the downstairs corridor. From here he doesn't know what to do or where to go as he stares at the wall opposite him, his body visibly trembling, his throat feels tight and dry so his instincts say to step towards the kitchen. As he pushes the door open, he looks around, wondering if it's rude for him to be making himself a drink in the middle of the night but it's not as if he can wake PJ up and ask. 

His train of thought is interrupted as he realises very quickly that he isn't alone. A figure in the darkness is facing him, causing him to step back quickly; his lips part to make a startled noise, eyes wide with shock. Jack isn't sure who is there and in his sleep addled mind finds it a suitable time to shout with shock. The figure advances towards him, the silhouette of a man that he does not recognise but looks dark and threatening in the coat of the night. "Who are you?" He asks, his hands clenched by his side, the green haired man become hyper aware of the fact that he has no training in fighting whatsoever, he's completely defenseless should this person attack him. He's about to shout for help as he steps back, to find his body meet another person's. Startled, he jumps forward, the light flooding from the bulbs that are suddenly switched on. 

The cerulean eyed man spins on his heels to meet the disapproval on a familiar face; PJ is stood staring a little past him, his stormy eyes fixated on the newcomer to the house. Jack turns to look at the man who is looking a little sheepishly, a glass of water in his hand. The man in question looked much less fierce now that the blanket of darkness had been taken away; his tall, thin body not at all intimidating, with messy brown hair and soft, dark eyes. "My apologies, I wasn't planning on running into anyone," his voice isn't deep, and has a comedic edge to it, as if he's dedicated his life to laughter. "But you must be Anti, you're much smaller in person," There's a silence and the brown eyes meet that off the host's, and they go from soft to sad very quickly. "Dark called," He muttered apologetically, "I left as soon as I could so I could catch him before he goes, I didn't really program my timing very well,"

"No you didn't," PJ's serious tone sounds cold and steely, making Jack feel unwelcome and uncomfortable in the new situation, like he was walking into a lover's tiff. "It's kinda amusing how you come as soon as Dark calls but I text you for months, unaware if you're dead or alive and you don't respond," Now he definitely feels like this isn't something he's meant to hear, but he's glued to the spot, worried the slightest movement will draw all attention to him and why he's walking around a home that isn't his at 2AM. "If it wasn't two in the morning I swear I'd punch you right now, for fuck's sake you haven't spoken to me in months and you just turn up in the middle of the night because Mark asked?"

"Just leave it, I don't owe you anything," Chris mumbled, draining the water in seconds. "Let the kid go to bed, he clearly came down for a drink," Jack wants to protest against being called a kid, but he's excited to be able to dart out of the way and back up to bed. His throat wasn't so dry and needy anymore, he was just desperate to escape the rapidly raising voices. In his hurry, he finds himself tripping over a figure at the top of the stairs, this time he recognises the crimson hair in the dark. Dark taps the space beside him, leaning his head on the wall. Jack takes the hint and sits beside him.

"I see you've met Chris," He says gently, his quiet voice making his baritone rumble even more clearly. "I believe the entire town is now aware that Chris is here," There's a bitter humour in his voice that sounds almost nostalgic, as if Dark is recalling a time where the raised voices heard downstairs were something never even thought of. "That, I'm afraid, is what happens with most love affairs that start young, they go cold and bitter, left to be washed down the drain," Jack can't help but study his companion in the darkness, light from downstairs washes up against his tan skin, making him glow ever so slightly, the shadows of the creases and lines on his face are so much more prominent. For a fleeting moment he feels like he is admiring art not looking at a traveller. "You didn't tell them your real name, do you not trust them?" It is clearly a question that has been bugging him, but he doesn't want to offend this man, or his friends, who have offered to help him. 

"It's not that, I just feel if I start telling people my real name, it'll be harder to narrow down whose my friend and who is not, I told you my name because at the time I hadn't considered the danger, why would I, I've never even interacted with people outside my circle, I don't particularly like having too many people that I have to keep track of, these are all people who will not want or need me after this is over," He's surprised by how much he himself has thought about this as he whispers under the shouting downstairs "If they know me as Anti, they do not know me as a friend, they know me as an idea, and I'll have to hope and pray they never actually meet him," Dark is silent, listening to the hurtful words being hurled back and forth by two people who had sworn they'd love each other for ever as if people like them could ever achieve that. "We should get to bed," Jack breaks the silence, coming up to scratch and itch that couldn't be solved, his palm rubbing against the back of his head to silence things that couldn't be silenced.

"Yes, I suppose we should," They both stand in understood quiet, both still processing the words that had left the Irishman's lips. It begged one question that neither wanted to bring to the forefront: "If Dark knows Jack's name, does he see him as an idea...or a friend?"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MEET CHRIS HEY IT'S SHORT BUT EFFECTIVE


	8. Animal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Here we go again,  
> I feel the chemicals kicking in,  
> it's getting heavy   
> and I wanna run and hide,"
> 
> Jack begins to panic about the situation, and whoever- whatever is inside of him, take advantage

He can smell gas on his hands when he wakes up in the middle of the day; his eyes are aching and his forehead is throbbing, screaming. Immediately Jack feels his legs give out into the dirt, where he remains for a minute, coughing weakly with his eyes fluttering and dirt catching his eyelashes. The young man can push himself into sitting position but no further strength can make his system, so he remains where he is sat. The cool concrete of the building pushing up against his back is the only think his burning skin could focus on, but he can smell gas, and he can smell burning. It's this last thought that drags him from the drowsy depths of his underwater thoughts, and forces him to sit up straighter with his eyes wide, frantic. 

"Dark?" He calls out but his voice cracks in the hot pressure of the outside, dust caught in his throat. He remembers none of this day and a sinking feeling in his stomach dictated the loud laughter in his head was the reason for this. "Fuck," He cusses, clipped and sharp as he pushes himself up to stand shakily on his legs, like a baby deep learning to walk. Jack breathes deeply whilst leaning back against the wall, coughing and screwing his eyes shut in pain. What the hell was burning? Did he do it?

He stumbles his way through inside, legs shaking and body trembling in a hot fever "Hello?" he calls out. 

Loud noises fill his head, the sound of loud bangs, shattering glass, and he falls to the floor again, his head enclosing in black and numbness. There's no movement from his pale, lifeless body for a good five or ten minutes, in two of those PJ finds him and shouts for help. Between PJ and Dark they carry the green haired man upstairs onto the bed, making observations about his state; "He smells like gas," "His hair has blood in it," "He's breathing fine," But neither of them could pinpoint a series of events that ties these all together. For a long minute, PJ thought perhaps they had lost him, as his chest stuttered and eyes rolled, like he was having some sort of seizure. 

The sound of the Irishman gasping for air sends sighs of relief following, his coughing and wheezing more accepted in the anxious room than any other noise; Dark sends PJ running for some water as the elder man meets Jack's frightened cerulean eyes. "What happened?" But all he go in response was a shaky shrug and coughs, eyes half closed again "It's okay," The darker skinned man was well aware that comfort was not his forte as he pulls up a chair, after a moments hesitation however, he takes Jack's hand in his and draws soothing patterns with his fingertips. Looking drained, the younger man's head turns to meet Dark's eyes, a small and very weak smile on his lips. 

"Thank you,"

\--

When Jack is feeling better, which doesn't take much longer because mutant bodies are quite literally built to withstand abnormal and treacherous conditions, he begins to wander around and get a drink, he wondered if anyone knew what had happened to him. The smell of gas faded after a thorough wash, and his skin no longer felt weighed down by dirt and blood. Did he get into a fight with someone? Why was there gas involved? And why did he hear explosions when everything is intact?

_'Because I like to play with your little mind'_

The green haired man grits his teeth and shakes his head in slow motions, his eyes becoming hard and focused. "Stay out of my fucking head," He growls aloud, but the monster doesn't dignify him with a response. So it was...him, he did this. And whatever happened, if it even happened, happened because of that thing. At this point he became very aware that his other self could play tricks with his mind in any way he deemed fit, and there would be nothing he could do about it. He cussed under his breath. How the hell was he supposed to save his friends when he can't even save himself?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow where tf have I been.   
> Well let me put it this way. College is a fucking nightmare.


	9. The Devil WIthin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I made myself at home  
> In the cobwebs and the lies  
> I'm learning all your tricks  
> I can hurt you from inside  
> I made myself a promise  
> You would never see me cry  
> Til I make you
> 
> You'll never know what hit you  
> Won't see me closing in  
> I'm gonna make you suffer  
> This hell you put me in  
> I'm underneath your skin  
> The devil within,"
> 
> Anti is pushing at Jack's mind, and Dark reaches out to control him.

There's a silence this morning. Chris and PJ appear to be anywhere but in the same place, whilst Dark lingers at the corner of every room with his eyes fixated on Jack; or rather, Anti. Every now and then the man of Irish decent noticed some obscure things were happening around the house, doors appearing in places they weren't, reflections in mirrors of people that were not there. It didn't take him very long to piece together what was happening; this place was not haunted, his mind was. He could tell that Dark was piecing it together, the long off-balance stares, the little jumps and sudden turns he was making.  

"I just wish he'd get the fuck out of my head," He growls in an Irish lilt "How can I lead this thing when I can't even trust what's real and what's false in my own eyes?" He sounds somewhat defeated as he pushes numbers violently into his phone, registering the number Thomas had left for him. "I can see him you know?" He pauses, defeat and fear in the thick undertones of his accent; a shake in all the false confidence he'd thrown on. "When I look in the mirror, i can see him, all the blood and the smell of gas, loud noises...he glitches and shouts and screams," He pauses what he's doing, and his eyes seem to soften, become blank and glassy with the phone left forgotten on the table. "His eyes are so...pale, green, like they're infected,"

Dark sighs heavily and remains silent for a second as he counts the times he inhales and exhales, before picking Jack's abandoned phone from up off the table and finishes inputting the number that was currently unfinished on the screen. The weight and gravity of the situation hung around his head with a heaviness he didn't entirely want to address just yet, not whilst he was still trying to sort out PJ. The elder man had no idea if the blue eyes man was anywhere near ready to be tackling his other self just yet; all he knew is that he would at least have to try if they were going to save the other wastelanders from whatever was capturing them. "I guess it's time to start training you to put a leash around him then," The dark eyed man places the phone back on the time, now complete with four numbers: Chris, PJ, Dark and Thomas, Jack mutters a thanks and pockets the cell, inhaling and exhaling. "First, you have to learn to let him out,"

\--

It's been three hours and all Jack has done is walk up and down his room in a fast-paced, erratic yet exhausted pace that could become a tango if he crashed into Dark one more time. Tired of watching the other pace, the ruby haired man places his hands softly on the shorter's waist and tells him to breathe deeply. "Trying to force him out won't work, you have to lure him, you're simply straining yourself this way," He moves his hands up to the other's temple and leans their foreheads together, "Feel what I am doing, memorize this energy and absorb it,"  

It's all the chartreuse haired man catches before he feels like his head has been held underwater and all the air in his lungs has been emptied into the atmosphere or perhaps into another mind. He feels as though there is nothing, and suddenly his consciousness is an empty vase and he is no where to be found. 

 ** _"did you miss me?_** "

Anti's voice, Dark decides, is like a glitching TV signal when important dialogue is being spoken; irritating and defeats it's purpose. Now, he doesn't doubt at all that the man stood before him was not completely terrifying, but when you have a being like that able to be withdrawn and suppressed at the touch of your will, it's harder than one would think to feel a little invincible. "Not in the slightest," His fingertips drift down the curves of the man's face, hovering under the sickly green eyes and down to touch the exposed flesh above his t-shirt neckline. He swallows dryly and allows his eyes to wander over the differences; the pale, tight skin, the black inky veins that crept like shadows over the pastel, exposed skin. There's a dangerous excitability about this man, but dangerous was enough to stop his interest in it's path. "What can you do?"

 ** _"you're asking the wrong question there, friend, the better and more suitable would be, what can't I do?"_** Everything seems a little darker, the silence now seems to fizzle like static; when did it become so cloudy outside? These little observations make Dark glance around before returning his eyes back to meet the short sparks in the shorter man's, or whatever this thing was. **_"i can do more than you want to hear, and you know it,"_**

There's a short pause, and the elder man tilts his neck and breathes deeply, he doesn't want to admit that his heart beats a little faster than he wants it too and that fear seemed to run down his spine like the waves of a waterfall. It's like Anti seemed to radiate negative emotions, or perhaps manipulate them, because his entire body and mind felt cold as an echo in a dark passageway at night. "That's enough from you I think," He muttered, eyes fluttering closed and hands pressing firmly against Anti's temple. The entire room seemed to switch pressure as he eyes flew open, watching the black sink down underneath translucent skin, exposing colour and warmth. 

Jack's eyes, Dark thinks to himself, are something relieving. The bright cerulean meets his own in shock and panic, chapped lips parted as if he's forgotten how to breathe; suddenly he heaves in a massive gulp of air, legs giving out underneath him as he falls against Dark's chest. "I think I just held my metaphorical breath for five minutes," He mutters weekly, the green hue to the strands of his hair falling across his skin as his wide, bright blue eyes meet Dark's again. The drained life in them seemed like a culture shock compared to the ill death of Anti's dead stare. The brown eyed man smiled so gently, helping him upright. 

"You just need some more practice, that's all Jack," The two pause, looking at each other, trying not to let the familiarity of the situation get too them too much; still clasping each other's arms as Jack smiles weakly. "Come on, get some rest,"

 

 


	10. Believer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You make me a believer,"

Dark hasn't stopped pacing backwards and forth, wearing holes into the carpet with his heavy footing and drained expression. His eyes flicker towards Jack and then back at the floor again, not wanting to express what was on his mind lest it terrify the other man; trying to compute Anti was scary enough as a bloodthirsty villain with a lack of understanding for human emotion. The news that Anti was so much bigger than mundane evil may shake all the hope he's been holding on to so far, but at some point he would have to divulge that Anti was essentially a 'New God' or the opposite end of that spectrum. New Gods, by their very purpose, are made with good intentions and powers to restore order. The most powerful beings on this devastated world. Whatever Anti is, or whatever he can do, it's a greater power than Dark has experienced as he could feel the energy coursing through those ink black veins when his fingertips suppressed him. 

"Are you okay?" He's startled from his reverie by the voice of his friend, whose electric eyes are staring at him with wide-eyed worried. The Technopath has his arms full of technology that he himself could not label but he supposed PJ could in a heartbeat. He realised he still had not responded, lost in his absent thoughts, but just as he goes to open his mouth he realised he genuinely did not know if he was okay or not. He is the only person in the world who can draw out or suppress Anti, a being that could possibly be more powerful than the New Gods themselves; if he were to be incapacitated there would be nothing and no one to prevent the destruction he could cause. 

"Relatively," He mutters, hands digging deep into his pockets as he fumbles around for his phone "How is everything going?" Dark asks, more for a distraction given the current situation, he knows that PJ never fails in the things he does as a perfectionist as well as a talented genius. As he awaits a response he types out a quick text to Jack, before meeting his friends raised eyebrows and expression of disbelief. "Don't," the darker skinned man sighs "Just update me on everything I guess," He turns to leave but is stopped by the other. 

"There's been random electrical surges since Anti got here, is he Electrokinetic? You never mentioned what sort of mutant he was, really we don't know anything about him at all, I'm trusting him because I trust you, and because it's tiring cutting humans away from mutants," Dark bites his lip and shoves his phone rather violently into his pocket before running an exasperated hand through his hair; he had wondered how long it would take before there were arising issues over the quiet nature of Jack's powers. He had been hoping the others wouldn't ask at all, maybe just assume Jack had no powers at all. 

"He's a switcher," He admits quietly. "He has another person living in his body, and it's my job to make sure that other person stays under control, I've always known what I was ever since I searched it, and trained in it, but some part of me still thought I'd never meet one, this is the rarest type of mutation and it's starting to look like the most dangerous," PJ sets down the box in his hands and wipes his dusty hands off on his trousers whilst biting his lip. "The other guy in his head is one of the most powerful people I have ever met, I tried to get a proper reading on him, but there's so much there it was almost impossible," As part of a suppressor- someone who controls a switcher, there is the ability to read people's powers, the amount of energy their powers have. He's never failed at it before, it almost seemed like there was too much energy in Anti to get a definite response. 

"A switcher?" PJ rests against the arms of the chair he had placed his box on. "Even I was starting to thing they don't exist," He paused "I kept looking into the networks to see if I could find any, but after a long look around it would seem these people would have to live out in the Wastelands or are keeping very quiet," He breathes deeply and exhales patiently "When I said there was an energy surge in the Wastelands, is that why you stayed out there? Were you looking for it?" 

"I was, in all honesty and technicality, looking for the surge of the energy, but I was also looking for him," Dark ran a hand through his hair and sat on the opposing chair "I thought there might be a Switcher in the heart of it all, it was such a random hope and guess, but I was right, I found him leaving the general area of the surge, I don't know if he caused it or whether it has something to do with his friends going missing, but I found him," He bites his lip and presses his dry palms against his trousers, looking down at the floor as his long fringe fell in front of his dust-stained face, tangling a little against his beard. "Whoever it is inside his head, he is a good guy and he's afraid and lost and just wants his friends back, and I'm not going to give up on that," He looks up again and swallows, to meet a taken aback PJ. 

PJ had never really seen Dark exhibit emotion like this, he'd seen him steal, kill, manipulate and scream and shout. But there was a connection between the two he was yet to understand; probably a connection that only a Switcher can have with a Suppressor- or two men that have both lost people that meant the world to them. "Is this about Felix?" He muttered, "I know you two were close, but he's gone Dark and you can't bring him back, the more I look into this the more it seems like a suicide mission- New Indianapolis is fort, a military fort, and we're all going to get killed in the process," The man pauses, jaw clenching and a long sigh escapes his lungs. "You and I both know there is something at large here, more than we can understand, we've watched mutants come and go and never return, but this was a specific target; whoever Anti's friends are were clearly very powerful people because they did not go down without a fight, you saw the size of those energy currents, it was like entire lifetimes of energy were exploding,"

"Are you going to help me PJ, or are you not?"

There's a long pause, filled by nothing but a static silence. Pj looks down at his feet and back up at his friend "I've a list of all the mutants in this city willing to help, and connections across three other sectors willing to come and join your cause," He sighs "I'll stay here and manage what I can through technology, and Chris for all the useless that he is has offered to help," The curly haired man stands up and picks up the box he had left between the arms of the chair "I just hope you know that leading a revolution is not as easy as it looks, if this goes wrong you could have a near genocide on your hands," 

Dark watches the other man retreat, licking his dry lips in silence whilst doing nothing else. When he stands, the floorboards creak under the pressure of his weight, and continue to do so as he makes an aimless path across the room; the door creaks open behind him causing him to turn to face the newcomer. Jack stands there, looking tired and confused at the other's drained expression. "Are you okay?" Dark snorts in response and takes a step towards the other (who is unaware the amusement comes from his question mirroring PJ's a second ago), unlike before where he had to think about his response, he instead just shakes his head. 

"I need to teach you how to control Anti, or at least how to build mental barriers so that you can co-conscious together, but first you have to manage his strength and use it, the hard part is you're gonna have to learn very fast," He holds out a hand. "Now let me teach you about barriers, inside our head we have the abilities to put up walls to stop people like psychics and clairvoyants getting into them, not because they're malicious but because not all of them have the ability to control what they do and don't hear- now people like you also have the ability to put up a barrier between the two souls inside your head, are you with me so far?" Jack nods, but doesn't speak, trying to absorb the information given too him. "Can you hear Anti right now? Can you feel him?" Another quick nod "Now imagine building a wall between the two of you, imagine him being suppressed, dragged down into a  locked room where you cannot hear him it's your mind first and foremost, you have the ability to control it,"

There's strain written all over the others face as he tries to tune out everything, from the cluttered noise of PJ shuffling around, to the creaking of floorboards, but the more he thought about it the more it hurt his head. After a few minutes of silence he shakes his head "It's not working," the exhausted undertone of his voice makes Dark sigh, knowing the other cannot and will not just give up. 

"Then try again, keep trying, until you can, I believe in you, even if no one else is left to,"


	11. Enjoy the Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls...  
> Gather around, gather around,  
> Sit back, Relax, and please stay in your seats  
> kick your feet up and grab some popcorn  
> Oh, And of course,  
> lest we not forget...  
> enjoy the show,"
> 
> Jack is starting to build his walls, with Dark's motivation, as people start to join them from the city to discuss the issues that have arisen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to say thank you to the commentators- especially to Heart of A Dragon, who until I read their comment I was so out of inspiration to write, so thanks for giving that back to me with your kind words. And now I'm more invested in this story than ever.

"I'm barely managing it," Jack mutters, running his fingers through his tangled hair for the fifth time in the past minute; Dark's eyes rest on him with some form of tired pity, or maybe exhaustion. It's been three days of this, endless concentration and pep talks and pushing and shoving until they got some sort of outcome. Jack could now, at the very least put up a fragile wall against the other to blockout his voice and screeching, but he needed Dark there to help him and energise him into doing so. "And I still need you so what's the point in the first place?" He lies down on the bed, drained and defeated as Dark watches the rise and fall of the other man's chest. "How am I suppose to lead these people coming to us for help, when I can't even control what goes on inside my own head?"

There's tears welling in his cerulean eyes, catching on his dirt stained cheeks and rolling over his lips. The other man feels his entire body droop a little as his heart swelled. "Jack," He sits at the edge of the bed and reaches out a hand to place over the smaller man's; his own hands are warm and dry at the fingertips as his right hand presses against the ice cold sweat of the back of Jack's left hand. "I believe in you, and I know you have it in you to do this, I can feel that you do," The man of Irish descent sits up and brushes a tear from his eyes as he blinks up at the other man. His shoulders sag and his spine hunches forward, lips parted to breath deeply as he turns his hand around to intertwine their fingertips. "You have the strength Jack," Dark shuffles closer, placing his other hand on Jack's knee with his head tilted forward to catch his friend's eyes. 

"You're the closest thing to strength I'll ever get," Jack admits gently "I've not had many friends in my life, three to be exact, and all three have been taken, but you... you helped me in a way they haven't, you gave me power and ability and this energy that I can't describe," He turns his head, cheeks flushed, "It's the kind of energy I've always imagined feeling when I see two of my best friends smile at each other, or hold each other, or one of them cheering the other up when they're sad," He breathes deeply, inhale and exhale, breathing excercises. "It's like having a best friend but a best friend that knows what you can do, and sees what you can see and feels what you can feel," His eyes flutter over Dark's silent expression of surprise. "Is it because you're a suppressor, are we designed for each other by fate or by nature?"

Silence. It echos up the walls like the end screen of a TV show, or the pause between two songs. Dark doesn't know what he's supposed to say, what he's supposed to do; he hadn't really noticed them get so close but now he was put on the spot to think about it, they'd barely been apart since they got here just over a week ago. He gets this rolling electric feeling through his body whenever they were near and yes, he put it down to opposites attract in a more platonic way. But maybe he _wasn't_ just designed for any Switcher, maybe he was designed for _Jack_. "Oh," is all that he says, acknowledging that his heart is beating so fast that it feels like he may actually be experiencing a heart attack, everything seems a little bright and he thinks he might be holding onto Jack tighter than he needs too. 

He doesn't want to let go though, he knows that much. 

"I don't know," Is his final answer, and he does let go this time. "I feel closer to you than anyone else I've known the majority of my life, so maybe it was fate, maybe it was biology, maybe friendship at first sight should be a thing." He chuckles low and hoarse, acutely aware of how he was stammering over his words and that he was sweating profusely. "Just keep trying Jack, I'll see you later."

\--

The first person to arrive was Thomas, with his house contents on his back and a beaming smile on his face "Hello, I'm Thomas nice to meet you," He shakes PJ's hand rather profusely, the latter looked both gobsmacked and mildly at the flambouyant young man whose entire back pack's contents was held together by vines. 

"PJ, wecleome, come in," He turns around as the door closes behind them both "Anti! Dark! Someone's here for you," Dark makes it down first, hair still wet from a shower and lips pulled into a grin as he shakes the young man's hand. Jack comes along in a little more of a tired fashion, feet dragging and rubbing his eyes from a long nap. "Can I get you a drink or anything Thomas, I get the feeling it's going to be a long night?"

"A drink would be nice thank you!" He rests his bag on the floor, cracking his back before shaking the other two men's hands, "How are you both, you're looking a little healthier than when I last saw you that's for sure," He was lead further in, to a makeshift living room where they sat on the floor amongst a pile of books, electrical cables and what looked like a home made router for an internet connection (They could only assume that PJ had failed in the experiment or that the internet connection was not something they were privy too). "So, what's going to happen now?"

"We're good, mostly, still finding our footing in the whole thing, but the general plan is to first get as many people as we can together and fast, we don't know how much time is left on those that have been taken so ideally we want to act within the next week," Dark shuffles through the pile of books as he talks, blowing dust off a couple of covers even though he knew exactly what he was looking for. His hands close around  dusty old leather book, within it's blue cover the words "New Indianapolis" was stamped in gold. "And I happen to have a map of the entire city right here," He unfolds a slightly larger page which reveals the tunnels, entrances and layout of the city and leans over it. "So far we have just over a hundred people, practically the entire city who want to help us, apparantly mutants have been dissappearing left right and centre and they want a shot at finding their friends and family members in New Indianapolis," He gives a small, sad smile "We do have more coming in from neighboring cities so what I'm hoping is that we'll have fifty down at the tunnel entrance and then fifty at either side at the other two entrances, they have weapons but so do we, PJ is in the midst of finishing off a weapon that if we must use, then we will, but all in all we have ourselves and our powers," 

Their conversation is interrupted as PJ places the cups of tea on the floor next to them, sitting down with a studious expression on his face. "The weapon, in case anyone is wondering, is a living thing, it's powered by biological means, mainly by mutant genes and a human heart. Thomas pales for a second as PJ continues "This is, in essence a weapon that can harvest the powers of mutants and use them as a defence system, I built it out of morbid curiousity and I had hoped it would never get used, but here we are I guess. The curly haired man notices the wide eyed expression on the face of the newcomer "I didn't kill anyone if that's what you're thinking, I revived a dying human heart and kept it artificially alive inside the hold of the weapon, it pumps blood around it like it would a person, except it has no brains or brains cells, so it lacks a conscioussness, Then I transplanted mutant genese of different kinds into the weapon, effectively I created DNA for it. What it does is instead of how we use our powers in which we actively think and do things, this weapon waits to be told what to do, the way any other weapon does it has a trigger, it gets more complicated than that but I think I've already lost you,"

The nature boy nods, flowers growing out of the palms of his hands in sheer anxioussness. 

"When's Chris getting here?" 

\--

Chris arrived three hours later than expected, smelling somewhat like alcohol and plants. His dark eyes were cloudy and there was a cut on his jawline. "I burnt the flower patch outside, the only flower patch," There's a defeated undertone to his voice as hewipes blood onto the back of his hand "The others were not very happy, I tried to explain it was an accident but..."

"You're a fucking clutz,"

"Yeah, that," There's an awkard tension between the two of them, PJ's eyes narrowed and fierce, almost stony as they glare straight through his ex lover. Chris stands, not as extravagant as he was the first time Jack encountered him, with his hands buried deep in his pockets and his eyes fixated on the ground. His bottom lip was kept firmly between his teeth as if he might bite straight through it at any given moment. 

"I can fix that," Thomas says timidly, stepping forward into the path of silent war, hands outstretched with hands full of Asters and Sunflowers and Bluebells and Snowdrops, flowers that shouldnt even exist anymore, especially in the heat of this radiation, lived in the palms of his hands. "I can make eternal flowers live, they sustain themself because I give them the ability too, it takes some of my energy but everyone needs flowers in their lives,"

Jack and Dark smile softly at each other before shaking their heads. 

\--

(There was a flower bed outside now, and several mysterious flower patches randomly appeared around the city overnight)

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hush boy, oh hush boy,  
> Put on a sweater, no one gets hurt,  
> Hush girl, oh hush girl,  
> Just bat your eyes,  
> Play our little game,"
> 
> Jack steps outside for the first time in a while, needing space from the same few walls, to realise there are more people that know him than he thinks.

Chris talked a lot. That was one of Jack's first impressions of the other man upon meeting him, and something he feels was an accurate description to make further along the line of knowing him. What he also nboticed was that he seemed to talk about anything but PJ, everytime the man's name was so much as uttered Chris would spin the entire conversation on it's head like he was running away from it with words. Jack knew heartbreak, he held his own broken heart against his chest the day he lost his parents; wastelanders see death out there in the barren wasteland all the time, there's always someone who didn't have enough food to last them, or the radiation got too them too fast. 

He had not, however, ever really seen grief in work for people who were still alive. He had to watch the two avoid eyes like a game of tag, like whoever is 'it' is the first to feel their heart shatter. The Irishman vaguely wonders if these two people consistently under the same roof can remember the colour of each other's eyes; either way, it;s not his buisiness and he knows when to stay out of it. 

Anti had been quiet the last few days, making Jack somewhat nervous. He doubted the parasite was in anyway happy about having a wall up between them, so he cannot get inside his head and play around with the circuit board as he usually does, Jack also heavily doubts the other half of him likes being suppressed the way he has been. The demon likes to see the world, play mind games, watch destruction, and now that Jack is getting the hang of the reigns he is becoming like a puppet, docile and unable to move alone. Dark insists that he should remain calm and wary, but the blue eyed man now only feels anxious and irritable. 

"Relax Jack, seriously," Dark sits cross-egged on the edge of the bed, eyes softer than usual and brimming with a makeshift form of sympathy. He vaguely disliked he had all but been forced to allow this man to be his support network when they were barely acquinted with each other; but Jack needed support, and Dark was the only one close now. "If you start to get riled up, anxious, angry, Anti will begin to feed off it, he'll be able to sense your lack of focus and use it to break through, keeping this on edge will only drain you and make him more powerful," He reaches a hand out to place on Jack's knee "You have to remain calm, come on, let's go outside, get a drink, take a break for once,"

The smaller man doesn't move, he remains still with shoulders hunched and eyes fixated on the ground, glassy and unfocused like a zombie. Dark sighs softly and moves his arm around the younger's shoulder's, feeling him soften against him like it was his nature. His ocean eyes blinked and faux tears from staring stained the sides of his rosy cheeks. "I'm scared," Jack admits softly, throat dry and voice whispering. "I don't like not knowing what he's thinking or saying, I think I preferred it when he taunted me, at leats then he's open about what he's going to do," He shifts away slightly and looks up at Dark "I wish my friends were here, I feel so alone here with people who are practically strangers that I just have to trust because I've got no one else," This time, the tears that well are from sadness alone as his voice cracks and a hand comes up to hide his sadness. It acts like a barrier between himself and the other man, as if the old "If I can't see him, he can't see me," worked for these situations. 

Dark doesn't respond in words. He doesn't know what to say. Instead he brings the smaller man closer to him and holds his shaking body like a protective shield; he couldn't comprehend (and hadn't even tried to) how terrified he must be, so far from home with his friends dead or alive, and a monster tapping around his head. "We're going to get your friends back," He finally says, when Jack's shaking had subsided to subtle trembles, he pulls away to look him in the eyes. "I promise, and I'm sorry that I'm all you've got, and that this little team is all you've got to trust right now, but I promise you we're going to get your friends back, we have too," 

The silence absorbs the room, there is nothing to be heard except creaking floorboards that could be either Chris or PJ trying to navigate around the house. Jack's eyes don't leave Mark's as he searches them for honesty and support, and finds himself falling right through them and into the wide open expanse of hope. He doesn't talk, but his mouth runs dry and his heart beats faster and faster with every passing second; he thinks if he doesn't move it might just give out on him completely. So he moves. 

He moves himself right against Dark. And presses their lips together. 

-

He can hear static in his ears as we pulls away, cheeks flushed bright red and heart pounding. Dark is a picture of sheer surprise, but there's not an ounce of dissappointment on his face, the corners of his lips curl ever so slightly and a soft "huh," tumbles from between them; eyes wide and eyebrows raised with not a single word left in his mind to utter. "My name's Mark," is what eventually comes out of him, and hangs in the air for a second "I thought you should probably know that, given that you're supposed to trust me and I'm supposed to trust you, and I do trust you, so that's my name," It's awkward and stiff, and neither of them know what to say or do in this brief moment. "And I lost a very good friend of mine too, and I'm guessing I'm doing this because I'm hoping I'll finally find out what happened too him, or if I don't then at least I could help you save your friends when I could never save my own,"

"Thank you Mark,"

-

The two of them do eventually make it outside, down to a makeshift bar ran by a bouncy young astrakinetic who greeted them with a grin. "Dark! Anti! Lovely to see you both," Jack wanted to take a stepback because he'd never met this girl in his life; he's thinking baout this as she begins to frantically shake his hand "My name's Dodie, and I'm ever so excited to meet you, you've been the talk of the town!" Dark bites back a small smile as he orders a drink "And it's lovely to see you again Dark! It's been so long," She beams as she moves to make them their order, a busy mess of hands and glasses to concoct something Jack had never tried before. 

"So, when is it happening," She leans over to whisper, as if sharing some juicy gossip, "I hear all sorts coming from the town folk, saying that there's a revolution and that you're leading it," Jack doesn't even need to hazard a guess of how everyone came to know his name, but he has a sneaking suspicion it comes in the form of PJ's talkative ex lover. 

"Something of the sort," The shorter man offers a tight smile and sips his drink as a distraction for how obvious it was that there were eyes on him. Dark glanced over at Jack before placing a hand on his shoulder for a reassuring squeeze. 

"Your accent is funny!" Dodie exclaims somewhat gleefully, bouncing like a child on the balls of her feet as another customer grabs her attention for another drink; as she makes the drink she continues to address them from accross the bar "It's been a long time since I heard such a solid Irish accent, I almost thought they were completely wiped out," She hands the customer their drink, brown hair bouncing in front of her wide eyes as she accepts three silver coins and throws them into the counter. "accents tend to blend toegther around here, we all have little pieces of our ancestors I suppose though," A heartstring pulls as Jack recalls Felix's Swedish accent and the slight twang to it, and Dan's accentuated articulate British accent; listening to the two of them bicker was the most comedic sound. 

"So, people know about me?" He mentions. Dodie pauses, her glittery smile slips and she nods, a firm confidence overtaking the childish glamour. 

"Of course, a strange man from the wastelands with bright green hair rocks up with Dark, that's interesting enough, especially as he's a bit of a loner," She teases, looking over at him with a playful smile, the man of asian descent only scowls in reply however. "But then Chris turns up here, after not being anywhere near PJ for god knows how long and starts talking about a revolution? Oh that's just the most excitement we'll ever get," She pauses "Especially as everyone in this town is very close knit, there isn't much of us you know, we're all invested in each other's lives quite a lot," her smile becomes a little more sincere "And we've all lost people here, we've all got questions for the big guns, we've just never had anyone to lead us before,"

Jack's heart almost stops, stomach somersaulting in his flesh. He opens his mouth and then closes it again, taking a  deep swig of his drink as he tries once again to ignore that people keep staring at him, and now that a few of them were actively listening on his conversation. "Anti and I are more than happy to help, we've all lost too many people to continue letting humans do this too us,"

"Is it true you're from the wastelands?" A man sat next to them interrupts, brown eyes flashing with curiousity. "I've actually never met a wastelander before, I was born and raised in the city," He tilts his head to the side, realising that someone was asking a question, other people began to shuffle closer. 

"Yeah I'm from the Wastelands," Jack looks around at the sound of another voice. 

"Are you going to help us get our friends back too?" There's a long pause as Dark looks to Jack, his eyebrows slightly raised, waiting to hear the response for himself. 

"I'm certainly going to try,"

 


	13. River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I've been a a liar, been a thief,  
> been a lover, been a cheat,  
> all my sins need holy water  
> feel it washing over me,"

Jack and Mark have not addressed the kiss situation, and it's doubtful they will, now just isn't the time to think about it and therefore they're avoiding it in favor of concentration. But there's a slight comforting feeling hanging between them and they share silent smiles between heavy works and plans and stress; PJ catches determination in their eyes every time their fingertips touch and it makes his heart clench, knowing that they could be developing something that he so sourly lost.  Nevertheless, he couldn't hold grudges, he'd known Mark for most of his life and had only ever known him as a lone soldier, and was not about to throw his bitterness into the mix. 

The two are preparing a revolution, people have started to come and go from PJ's home to talk and discuss what they can do, how they can help. The entire town seemed to buzzing with excitement and nerves; waiting for instructions as conversations pop up from one person to another, there was no stranger in this town anymore, everyone knew the name "Anti," and the synonymous thick Irish accent and bright green hair. Dark and Anti seemed like some form of dynamic duo, and one was never without the other, that was more to do with the fact Jack was genuinely terrified of stepping outside alone (He doesn't want to say that Mark makes him feel brave, because it's cheesy and he's supposed to be big and scary). 

Today, it's raining and it feels suitable. It rarely rains but when it does it's humid and heavy and it pours, the entire sky goes gray and black like a charcoal drawing on crumpled paper. The rain droplet leave little marks on Jack's pale skin but he doesn't mind; he hasn't seem rain in so long so he just stands under it's merciless canopy enthralled, his eyes a fluttering picture of wonder and piece, his lips drawn into a wide smile. Mark's dark hair clings too his skin as he watches the other reach a hand out for the water to run along his skin, a small smirk playing across his lips. "It's been too long since I've seen rain," Jack utters in an Irish lilt, "It's always so hot in the wasteland, but I suppose we were due for it to pop," He knew basic science, he'd self taught himself about the world and how it works, how water rises and falls. He loved to see the cogs work in a system around him, so he borrowed books the same way any of his friends had; that's how you learn out there out of civilization. 

"Do you like it?" The two turn to see a young man with his hands buried in his pockets "I like to play around with the weather every now and then, the heat gets too much for me," He sits cross legged on the wall and holds his hands out, suddenly the water droplets freeze where they are, outside of time as they knew it. Jack's eyebrows raise, followed by a grin. "My name's Ethan, but you can call me Crank," He closes his hand into a fist and the rain droplets fall but no other rain comes down, just a long and echoing darkness. It intrigued Jack that this man revealed his real name and offered a nickname, jack and Dark had given themselves alternative identities for safety, but it just seemed like this man was trying to escape his identity. 

"That's really cool, what else can you do?" The Irishman asked, intrigued as he sat on the wall next to the man. the young man, hair cerulean against the night's sky, bounces a little at the other's interest and twirls his finger multiple times in a circular motion, energy rippling through his body with sheer concentration as he did. The wind turned, moving like a predator hunting it's prey as it built in size and visibility. Even Mark took a step back as the movement of the wind twisted into a cone shape to form a real life tornado. "Okay, okay that's enough," Jack muttered in awe. His eyes are wide; he'd seen most powers be very reflective and internal based, but being able to manipulate the very cycle of the world was an impressive feat. Controlling nature is a very powerful thing. Jack isn't even sure he'd want to mess around with something like that. "Impressive," He whistles through his teeth with a nod. 

"So, can I help?" Crank asks, playing with his fingertips "Cos I'd really like too, I lost a friend and...I want to know if I can find him," Jack's entire body relaxes sympathetically, his arm going around the other man's shoulders before looking up at Mark, who nods in a way that makes him question why he was looking for validation on this. This man was clearly very powerful, but soft, not battle made, he was a casket of potential; but at what cost? 

"Yeah you can help, if that's what you really want,"

"Of course!"

\--

There's a long list of names sitting in a dusty notebook on top of the drawers, Jack has been frantically scribbling away inside of it since he came back inside, clothes dripping wet onto the floor with half open eyes. He didn't want to loose his train of thought by sleeping on it, he needed what was in his head out onto the paper and ready to be adjusted in the morning. The door creaks open, footsteps padded towards him and a hot mug of tea is placed on the desk next to him. "You're going to over work yourself Jack," Mark's husky voice fills the silence as he places a hand on his friend's shoulder. Tea is another thing that out in the wasteland he didn't see very often. "PJ has said some mutants are coming here tomorrow from the outlands, near New Indianapolis, they want to help," Jack looks up, tea half way too his mouth and offers a small smile and a nod of thanks, writing this down on a new page. 

"There's a lot of people, a lot of power, I've been matching up who works well with who, hopefully we'll be able to start getting everyone in one space," he cracks his knuckles. "I've been studying the exits and entrances to the city, the least resistance could be met with an underground entrance, but it will be difficult to actually get into," 

"Now that you've figured that out, don't you think you should entertain the idea of a nap?" Jack sighs and places his pen down, looking at his scribbled handwriting across pages and pages of the book. "There's something on your mind, isn't there?" The other man concludes, pulling up a chair next to his friend of Irish descent, eyes trained and focused on the melancholy look on Jack's face. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"What if we don't like what we find?" The bright haired man sighs "What if we get there and we can't find them? Or worse, what if they're dead and we lost them and took too long and now they'e gone forever?" He takes his bottom lip between his teeth and breathes deeply "What if all these people are going in hope of getting their friends back, and we're going to get nothing but their ashes?"

"Then at least we tried, we did all we could, but for now what we have to focus on is getting what we need, and right now that's all those people out there inspired by your story, all those people who once accepted that their friends were gone heard what you were doing, stood up and said 'not one more, no one else goes missing' You're an inspiration Jack, and you're helping save lives by making people stand up to the oppression we're facing," The Irishman smiles and wraps his arms around Mark, muttering soft 'thankyous' into his jacket. "Now, bed, come on, we've got a long day tomorrow,"

 


	14. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Cause you're the one thing I believe in  
> When I lose faith in all I do  
> This paradise comes when I close my eyes  
> It's true, in the darkness I see you"  
> -Breathe, Seafret.
> 
> -  
> Jack struggles comprehending all the people who are placing faith in his leadership, and starts to realise he is all but depending on Mark for emotional and physical support.

The entire building is packed full of people, people who have come from all over the wastelands, people who have come from inside the city, people who have arrived from other cities. He's resisting the urge to be sick as he shakes hands with person after person, retiring to the bar to accept something clear and bubbly from the smiling young bartender whose face radiates sympathy and reassurance; Jack thanks her and sips from the glass carefully as he tries to see over the hundreds of people barely cramming into the space, he knows there are more about that are sitting in the afternoon warmth of the outside seating area. Frantically, his eyes scan for a tall, dark haired man with light stubble and a worn down suit, wondering where his companion had gone. 

"Hey, Anti right?" His scan is sidetracked as someone sits next to him, facial features indistinct in the panic he can feel rising to his throat. There's a smile on his lips and a drink being slid into his hand "I just want you to know how much what you're doing means to us all you know, we've enver had someone take us seriously when we've been worried about the dissappearances and...even if it isn't good news when we get there...at least we finally get closure you know?" Jack clears his throat and nods, taking in the words with a swig of his drink and a small feeling of relief. The idea that closure is all they really want takes some of the pressure off his shoulder and he nods again. 

"Yeah, I feel we often sit in isolateion too often, we forget about what's happening in the world around us, this has really helped bring awareness to other people who had no idea what was happening, no clue about the dissappearances or that they were happening; it's safe to assume that many mutants were pissed once they found out, becaus ethey're all here now," He sighs and takes another drink, finally spotting the tattered grey suit and sweat-soaked hair that defined his friend. "I've got to head off for a moment, but it was lovely to meet you..." He holds his hand out to shake and raises his eyebrows expectantly for him to fill in the gaps. 

"Oh! Dan...my name's Dan," His hand freezes a second as he takes in the blue haired boy and bright eyes. 

"That's funny, I had a friend called Dan," The smile on his lips were weak before the Irish man turned to get swallowed up by the crowds. He pushes through the appraisal and smiles and people trying to get his attention until he all but falls into Mark. His chest heaves as he grabs the elder's sleeve and yanks him into a side room. "Jesus fuckin christ," His accent strains as his panic picks up, making his cussing sound thicker and his word pronunciation shake. "There's so many people, there's like..."  
  


"An entire armies worth?" Mark finishes, Jack nods and runs a hand through his hair. "It's going to be okay Jack, you have everyone's names and their powers, now all you have to do is get up there and say who will be training with who," His hand presses against the shorter's shoulder and squeezes reassuringly. "Everything is going to be fine, and I'm going to be there with you," These words send shivers like relaxation pills down Jack's body, unwinding all the tensity in him like a good massage; the corner of his lips tilt as he smiles and meets the taller man's soft caramel eyes. There's silence where the two just take in the quiet and each other akin to a mental preparation. 

"Let's do this then," He hand falls against the knob of the door and clicks it open before moving into the sea of people with newfound confidence. 

\--

He's never had this many eyes on him in his life. Stood up on the bar, he clears his throat and calls out "Can everybody hear me?" There's a chorus of yes' or something to that effect and he grins in response "Wonderful, hello ladies, gents, and people who fall between that, my name is Anti, and I am here to help you lead a revolution," There's cheers and whoops and raised fists in a cocophany of agreement, instilling his confidence further "So here's what's going to happen, over the next couple of days I'm going to ask you to train your powers, you will be working with people of similar abilities to you, or with abilities that work against yours, a good balance never hurt anyone," He looks at the stacks of papers by his feet and sighs "Would you like to come up in turns and read who you will be working with or should I read it out," People start talking all at once and he holds a hand up for silence, it feels powerful the way the chatter stops almost immediately. "Okay, raise hands for read it yourself," he counts the hands. "That looks like a majority and saves me a lot of reading," He grabs the sheets of paper "They will be positioned at the front of the bar, please form orderly lines, if there's too many people, go grab a drink and wait outside, get to know each other, it will be important," 

He jumps off the bar and breathes out as people swarm past him, forcing him away with no opposition from himself. "Want to get some air?" He looks up at Mark, whose eyes look even kinder and full of pride than they did before,"

"Fuck yes,"

\--

It's about 11 at night, and the fuss has finally died down. There were a lot of people in the village offering spare beds and mattresses to the travellers who had come here, and the level of comradery had instilled Jack with great faith for what was unfolding. For a while into the night, there had been fireworks and singing and late night chatter filling the streets with energy and life and excitement, something that Mark had never really witnessed before. Jack lights up a cigarette from the pack that had been given to him as a gift. He's aware it's bad for him, and he doesn't particularly care. Instead he is fascinated by the taste, by the smoke, by the dull bitter smell. "Want one?"

"I'll take a drag off yours," Mark inhales with elegance, his fingertips dancing along the folded paper as he drags the smoke into his lips; there was no cough or stutter as he inahles and exhales with ease. Jack watches with a certain level of fascination as the dense clouds pour over the other man's lips and dissappear into the air. He sips his drink. Silence.

"It's interesting to watch this, all these people, so strange and different in personalities get along with one common goal in mind, I've never even been around this many people before if I'm honest, and I don't think I'll miss it all too much when..." He pauses and coughs softly "If, I get them back," The darker haired man gives a gentle smile and wraps an arm around his friend, causing Jack to sink against him and relax. "I don't know what I'll do if I don't get them back,"

The silence comes up between them, because there's no promises Mark can make that he's not entirely sure he can keep and he doesn't want to fill Jack with ahope that his friends will come back to him alive if there's no guarantee that they will at all. "We can figure that out if it happens," Is what he settle on in the end, sliding off the wall as Jack throws his cigarette to he ground "For now, night time," 

 


End file.
